


A Wind Turned Dark With Burning

by nimueailinen



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimueailinen/pseuds/nimueailinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre and Enjolras, on the day the Library of Alexandria burned. (Written for Les Mis Across History.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wind Turned Dark With Burning

The noise was the first sign that something was wrong. Alexandria was as loud as any other port city, and Enjolras was used to the sounds of everyday life drifting up from the streets below, but those familiar noises were gone. In their place was a cacophony – cries of shock and confusion, snatches of terrified prayer, men calling to each other to come and look, come and see. From the distance, there came the sound of screams.

By the time Enjolras reached the street, it was already packed with people, all staring at the harbor in frozen awe and horror. One glance in that direction had him staring too, then rubbing his eyes and staring again, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

The harbor was burning. Caesar’s ships were gone, destroyed by the flames, and the fire was racing across the docks, consuming everything in its path. The Royal Library was ablaze, too; even from his distant viewpoint, Enjolras could see the smoke wreathing its pillars.

The library.

_Combeferre._

Enjolras ran.

* * *

He found Combeferre eventually, slumped against a building only one street away from the still-burning library and staring blankly at the sky. He looked so sad, and so terribly weary, and when Enjolras went to him and pulled him close, Combeferre clung to him with a fierceness that bordered on desperation. He was always so steady, so strong, but he was trembling now, and not bothering to hide it.

“Are you alright?” Enjolras asked. Combeferre stepped back just enough to be able to meet his eyes – closer than he normally stood, but he seemed as reluctant as Enjolras was to put any more distance between them.

“I am unhurt, if that’s what you mean,” he said quietly. “But… the library…” He broke off for a minute, running a hand over his ash-smudged face before continuing. “We saved a little, but it was only what we could carry as we fled – maybe a hundred books, all told. No more than that.”

“You did everything you possibly could,” Enjolras said, low and soothing, but he could not keep from wincing at the news. There were tens of thousands of books in the library, some of them unspeakably precious, and if they were lost to the flames, Egypt might never be able to replace them.

“It wasn’t enough,” said Combeferre, face distraught. “If I had been able to go back in –“

“No.” Enjolras cut him off before the thought could go any further. “You are alive and unhurt, my friend, and that is worth far more than another armful of books.”

He rested a hand on Combeferre’s shoulder and the other man leaned into it at once, eyes sliding shut.

“But all that knowledge…”

“Knowledge can be replaced,” Enjolras said firmly, though it was not quite true. “Or it can be rediscovered, if it is lost. There is an infinite amount of knowledge in the world, after all – but there is only one of you, and _you_ are irreplaceable, at least to me.”

He wracked his brain for some other words of comfort, but found nothing, because what could be said, in the face of such a loss? Instead, Enjolras wrapped his arm around Combeferre’s shoulders and gently pulled his friend away from the wall.

“Come,” he said, as they walked slowly up the street, “let me take you home. You need to rest. After all, there will be plenty of work to be done in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple of different theories as to how exactly the Library of Alexandria burned down, but I went with “Julius Caesar did it on accident” because that one’s the easiest and I’m lazy.
> 
> Apologies for any and all historical inaccuracies in this fic, and please feel free to yell at me if you see something I got wrong.
> 
> (Title's from Fahrenheit 451, because I am exactly that sort of person.)


End file.
